Black, white, and fur all over.
That's what you were, George.
Generic street cat look, or what we Filipinos call,"Pusang Kalye".
Fattest cat, I've seen in person but probably the only reasons why I can like cats as an animal.
You came to our lives at a very interesting point in time.
You were the size of an overgrown puppy when we got you and you just turned 7 years old.
I thought it was interesting to have a fat cat live with us because I only imagined the amount of interest that would build into my family despite us never having a cat.
My sisters were scared of you out of trauma, but you know that wouldn't last forever.
I spent my entire afternoon with you the day you came to our home, and observed your mannerisms.
You like lying down on surfaces with odd textures because you like how it feels, and you love to hide in shadowy places because you were edgey I suppose?
Dunno, but that's what you were George. The fat cat in the shadows.
Time passed by, and my sisters started growing to you.
You eventually moved into my sisters' room, and you stayed there ever since.
To my sisters, you were the greatest things that happened to them.
Alyssa, the second oldest in our family, loved you as if you were her long lost boyfriend.
She'd brush your fur, bathe you when you hated it most, and she'd trim your nails.
Alyssa always looked out fo royu.
Sasha, the youngest in our family, would always pester you because she'd see you as a living stuffed toy.
Of course she did that as a joke, but I know that she really loved having you around otherwise she'd be stuck on her iPad the entire day just watching anime and K-drama.
Even our mom, who hates cats grew to love you.
She'd always stop by my sisters room just to pet you and let you walk around her legs.
Only cat owners and people who've seen cats enough would understand that cats walk around people's legs to let them know that,"I own you." It's a cat's way of saying,"I love you."
Sounds twisted, but it was one of the most genuine things a cat could do.
To me, you were one of the most deviant things in my world.
I've never imagined having a cat, and nor was I looking forward to having one.
I remember lying down on my bed frustrated.
Frustrated with insecurity in a time where I thought the whole world was filled with crap.
Every now and then, you visited my room.
You just kind of lied down on my bed and stared me.
Some times you'd meow to get my attention because you needed to use the restroom, but you were just there as if you were listening to the insecurities in my head.
One day, I came back from a giant youth conference that changed every part of my life.
I was just lying down, thinking about everything that I decided to change in my life.
Then all of a sudden, you lied down on my stomach as if it were your bed, and you just purred.
A cat purr is probably one of the most oddly comforting things in the world.
A cat's entire body vibrates and lets out a soft hum.
Receiving a cat purr is like receiving an affectionate hug from someone who's not close to you, but you know they're genuine.
I didn't move from my bed  because I didn't know what to do, and I wanted to observe but I knew that you loved me.
I wasn't very expressive in showing that I cared about you George, because I was focused on myself way too much.
Yet you were always there to meow at me and to lie down on me, even when I took long naps.
Until one day, you stopped being affectionate.
You stopped showing your love for me.
You just lied down on a bed as still as a statue.
You wouldn't react to anyone who pet you or tried to bug you.
You were frozen...
Mom took you to the vet, and who knew...
You were dying.
You were emotionless, because you were sad.
We didn't know how selfish we were by just watching you play statue.
How callous of us!
As days went by, anxiety built within my sisters.
Until February 22, 2017, you were gone.
Hearts were broken. Tears were shed.
But this thought always lingered the entire time you were there.
"Everything happens for a reason and whatever God allows is His will."
Here I am in a coffee shop on the same day, trying to grasp the concept of mourning.
If dealing with death is coffee, then mourning is black coffee.
It's the healthiest of the choices but its bitter.
It awakens you physically and emotionally.
Too much of it, is bad for a human being.
You're a cat, the second most loved pet in the world but a "hit and miss" pet for the general populace.
I'm just thankful that you were in our lives because if you weren't there, Alyssa wouldn't have learned responsibility.
You brought her stability.
Thanks for dealing with Sasha, because she needed to release her emotions as well every time she pestered you.
And thank you, for always bugging me when I'm alone.
I used to push people away for getting too close, but you taught me that it doesn't take much to show love.
Thank you, George.
The Fat Cat of the Silva-Afzelius household, the Cat of the Shadows, and Alyssa's Sweet Prince.
We are thankful for the joy of companionship that you left in our hearts.
Good night furry one.

Your first love never goes away.
You can't decide if it's a burden of a bee or the welcoming of a butterfly.
In your heart, mind, body, and soul- he does not grow, he stays the way you felt one day he was as a perfect piece of human art. Before all the messy *******, before he became literature in your ******* hands that you didn't know what to do with and now it's all a little too familiar. Your mind starts drifting on a boat that has long gone sailed away.
You're laying next to someone now and this realization has just abruptly struck you in the eyes. Your mind, a deep abyss of imagination and hidden secrets and memories too important to share with anyone but the once significant other. But the one you can hear breathing at an off beat rhythm to the inhale- exhale of your own, he's maybe your 2nd, 3rd, or 8th. I guess you had a lot of time on your hands. New hands held yours but you knew they could never compare to the feel of the first person to grasp your hands and take you by surprise with a gift of three words wrapped up in lies. Yes, lies. You're thinking now, your eyes are opened but you didn't realize it, and you feel the adrenaline rush of an imaginable touch, but a more than realistic feel. You feel that you're committing a hopeless crime. That you have no control over the thoughts that swarm and sting the inside of your head. To stop the thoughts would be out of your reach and would result in a flash flood warning from the faucet in your lower lids. And you feel like you may have just committed a ******. A triple homicide, if you will. Your heart was asking for it and your head was begging. But what the **** did your hands ever do? Is to touch him in your dreams such a ****** thing to do? Is to love a long lost friend such a sin that only you could do? you stay completely and willingly at war with yourself, wondering if your multiple choice questions will forever go unanswered. Are you stupid? Is there an obvious choice between secure and edgey? You mustn't have read the question correctly, no. I guess you just signed up for the wrong class. One thing you'll never seem to exterminate is the thump of your heart, head, and body as you reminisce on that particular , meaningful kiss. The last the last the last. You never knew it'd be the last. You thought it'd all work out soon enough but now you're laying in a bed next to a ******* stranger. He is foreign to a love like your first. Goodnight, sweet dreams to the devil and angel that live amongst my shoulders

Look! I can spell FATHER:

FAILURE
ABUSIVE
****
HARDHEADED
EDGEY
ROUND

As a system
part
I am one in all, as a matter of

fact,
not effected affection

kiss-off. Smack, the meat-mind needs a hug,
the smack
is to the fore brain, the way

a stuck energy flow was corrected in the olden days,
with a whack to the element
fecting the knot where no knot ought be, let's see

what if we see first why the flow did not slow, but

stopped. Started, stopped shush whoooeee eeeooohw

tune to the sig- not the noise,
focus hoc es

ad a tensioner here, stretch it to

touch, Art Intuition in action, ting ding music

on a thread stretched to wiggle as a wave

in a word.
What game do you wish we could play?
Let's pretend.
let's make
beliefs we can act as if we know,
like
life is good, we live in it.
There's plenty

more than before the war that peace won
slowly
+-

here we are, the sons, wombed and un, off-spring of those who fathered us, each
an aspect, a spec of usness,
right-usness, save, samesame except, set that thought aside,
pass it by, save
right
used for good, for no other reason, ala
ars gratia artis,

for goodness sakes alive. That's it. Like
eureka, in the realm past the realm of delight. But, who would believe us
if we say we played a role in the game that

realized for goodness sake was a measure any child can re
cognize right. Soothes the soul, ol' time Sisyphus riff,

waft over the cross-road,
function junction

be real or be other
wise

wander on, blue honey, wander on

Green Dragon in my coffee gone to lick you life's sweetest
meme seem somesame goodnessakesiself

jah knowhat I mean mean mean sharp con cise

edgey re
ality, blue con sprinkles of rust ona sea of green

life through a single sensory source comes in colors,
that ain't all the light there is to see,

ask yo' smart-tv what it sees in Ultra-superfly HD res,
you can't see.
see. it says Ultra-superfly High De-fine-itive re
solution,

to get the idea into the kids, there is more to life than what

sapient sapient pre-augmentedus had words for
or means to imagine with,

--- the gift given a knapper, there is the clue
--- reason comes in flakes, as stories spark on points of light distraction
refraction.
bouncing as if chance has a role.